


Brickdust and Blood

by Clockwork



Series: Casting Spells [3]
Category: American Horror Story, American Horror Story: Coven
Genre: F/F, Gen, Necromancy, Raising the Dead, Voodoo, foxxay - Freeform, not so good days
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-07-27
Updated: 2018-07-27
Packaged: 2019-06-17 06:40:42
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,407
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15455556
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Clockwork/pseuds/Clockwork
Summary: Papa Legba has returned Misty to her coven, but what's the price to be paid?





	Brickdust and Blood

Cordelia hadn’t the patience to wait, shoving her feet into a pair of sneakers by the front door, not caring if they were her own, and raced out into the dark. A wraith of flowing gowns and loose hair, likely to spawn any number of new ghost legends in New Orleans by the time she reached the cemetery. 

Queenie just stared after her, stunned for a moment. Not at Papa Legba helping them, but Cordelia’s sheer determination and lack of reasoning skills. Zoe cleared her throat, rattling a set of keys she had gotten from somewhere.

“I take it you know where she’s going?”

Queenie nodded. 

“Then let’s follow her before she gets herself hit by a car.”

Not that following her was easy when Cordelia had been raised in the city and knew every alley and backyard as well as she knew the halls and passageways of the Academy. Not to mention having a few minutes headstart on them with the way she had fairly flown out the front door. 

Eventually they had given up on trying to find Cordelia and instead had gone straight to the cemetery, only just catching sight of Cordelia on the far side of the tombstone spotted plain as they got out of the car. 

“We should get her into the olympics,” Queenie muttered, easily picking her way around stones and uneven ground to a smattering of above ground tombs in a more modern section of the cemetery as she led Zoe to the tomb.

The last time they had been here, a vision had revealed where Misty had been laid to rest, and Queenie had learned that she had a new skill that showed how each of them were blossoming into candidates for Supreme. Now though, given Cordelia’s emotions, it was likely Queenie’s power would not be needed.

“Now let’s hope he told the truth,” Zoe muttered, her line of thought obviously on another plane from Queenie.

Queenie who glared and bared teeth at the other member of her coven with a dark stare. “Papa Legba would not lie. He might twist your requests because you aren’t specific and cheat you because you let ego get in the way, but he wouldn’t lie. If he said she’s here, she will be here.”

“Alive?”

Queenie paused then as she watched the ghostly form of their Supreme race closer to them. 

“We didn’t think to ask that,’ she murmured, glancing sidelong at Zoe, all of her righteous indignation gone in an instant. “You don’t think…”

“I don’t give a damn about thinking. I’m praying,” Zoe hissed back. “If she’s dead though, Cordelia can bring her back. Right?”

“From dying and turning to dust and then going to Hell? You think she’s that’s strong?”

Zoe glanced from Queenie to Cordelia. “I hope so? I don’t know. I’m not.”

“Have you tried?”

Queenie smirked as she said it. Perhaps to soften the words. Maybe to make them sting a bit more as she stepped forward, quickening her step, to arrive at the tomb when Cordelia did.

Cordelia braced herself, feet spread and her knees locked as she raised her hands. 

There was a sudden sound, like rushing air and a pop and then the bricks rained out and over them. No, not bricks. Red and rust colored dust of what used to be bricks, now nothing more than the debris left after they were pulverized by some massive, unseen force. That force was Cordelia.

Queenie and Zoe skittered to a stop, arms up and shielding their faces from the dust. Zoe coughed, batting at her hair and staring through the lingering dust, mesmerized and stunned at the show of power. 

Queenie smirked. “Well, that’s one way to do it,” she muttered the coffin within came sliding out and hit the ground with a thump.

Stepping in before Cordelia could clear her vision, Queenie gripped the edge of the coffin and jerked it back. Their vision might be blurred from the brick dust but not so much that they couldn’t see the pale form of Misty Day, laying atop a scarlet red satin pillow that left her looking bloodless and, as they feared, dead. 

“Oh shit,” Zoe muttered, glancing at Queenie and then Cordelia. “So… who’s going to try and bring her back?”

Cordelia’s look was sharp and dark. 

“Well, I’m guessing Ms Supreme,” Queenie said, a hint of laughter in her tone though she moved to step back and away from the coffin. 

Zoe looked at Queenie and she looked back. Together they took another step back. 

Cordelia sank down to her knees beside the coffin. Leaning up and over the darkly stained box to stroke fingers along Misty’s pale cheek. 

“Come along, Darling. Come back to me,” she murmured, not seeming to be the least bit upset that Misty wasn’t alive. Or that she had somehow gone from dust to formally formed once more. 

Leaning down, nearly close enough that she was kissing the woman that she had offered her mother’s soul to get returned to her, and offered the best thing she could to bring Misty back to them. Parts of her own energy and soul poured out from her mouth and down into the slack lips of the other woman. 

“Misty. Please. Please, I need you to come back to me,” she whispered. She glanced up. “Girls?”

There was nothing more she needed to ask as both of her apprentices stepped forward. Carefully kneeling in the gravel and the brick dust around the coffin, one across from Cordelia, and one at her head. Mirroring the Supreme, they leaned over towards Misty.

Their lips parted, pouring out that energy of resurgence that Queenie had already once used on Misty previously and that Zoe never had used but couldn’t help but try in that moment. Golden light poured from the three witches, coursing together and trickling over Misty lips to fill her body with strength and life. 

Slowly the magic faded and still Misty lay there against the scarlet red satin, unmoving. 

Zoe glanced up at Cordelia. Her mouth opened to speak but Queenie covered Zoe’s hand with hers to stop her from speaking. 

Chest heaving, panting in frustration as Cordelia’s hands gripped the edge of the coffin hard enough to splinter the wood. Suddenly she lifted her hand, blood seeping from her palm where the shards of wood had cut into the tender flesh of her palm. Shoving her hand down against Misty’s chest, she growled something in a language neither of the girls knew. 

The single word became a chant, growing louder and louder as her fingers curled down against the flesh over Misty’s sternum, nails digging in to bring up Misty’s blood to mingle with Cordelia’s.

Light rose from Misty’s chest, white and brilliant and streaming upwards. It rose into the night sky, lighting up the cemetery around them. Then suddenly, as if it reached a ceiling it stopped, shining upwards for one brief moment before all of that light and energy slammed back down into Misty’s chest.

Misty sat straight up, gasping a breath as color flood into her cheeks and her eyes opened, wide and dark as her mouth opened, uttering a painful, eardrum shattering shriek that echoed off the stones around them. 

Zoe and Queenie gasped, jerking away so that Zoe fell backwards, landing on her butt. Cordelia though gasped, the sound breaking into a sob as she clutched Misty to her.

“You’re okay. You’re okay. It’s going to be alright. I’ve got you.” She murmured the words, over and over again, stroking Misty’s tangled curls, the slight curve of her back, just touching and ensuring her that she was safe, and whatever Hell she had been in was over.

After a moment, as vision slowly came back to them from the blinding of the light and the ringing in their ears subsided as the screams died, only then did Cordelia pull back and away from Misty though her hands still gripped thin arms.

“You’re okay. Right? You feel okay?”

Misty’s still dark eyes stared at Cordelia as she slowly nodded. “Yeah, yeah I’m okay I think.”

Another soft sob broke from Cordelia’s lips. “Good. Good. Let’s… let’s get you out of here and get you home.’

“Home,” Misty repeated, tongue darting out to try and wet dry lips. “I don’t… Where…” She sighed, frustration screwing up her features as she shook her head. “Who are you?”


End file.
